


Looking for Pacfic Junk in a Pawnshop

by iAmSupportiveOfWriters



Category: Gravity Falls, overwatch
Genre: this is a masterpiece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7617979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iAmSupportiveOfWriters/pseuds/iAmSupportiveOfWriters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I told my brother that I wanted to write a fan-fiction really well but based on a terrible plot and he said "Junkrat and Pacifica run a pawnshop and fall in love with every customer that enters". So then I actually thought of a plot. Hopefully I will finish this story.<br/>Also I am Australian so Junkrat's lingo is 100% accurate. Trust me, I'm an aussie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let’s get down to business, to defeat, the existential crisis

Pacifia Northwest stood at the soon to be open doors of her brand new business. She took a deep breath, the pawnshop already dusty from the relics it had stored for years dating back to before she was even alive.  
It was only 3 months ago, she had been walking around Gravity Falls, when she had seen the closing down sign on the front window of the popular pawn shop, “PawnHub”. Peering at the glass, rather than seeing a failed business, she saw her own reflection. Looking at those crystal blue eyes, the word ‘Northwest' boomed in her mind. And she decided that no longer did she want people to look at her and hear only her family name, see only her privilege and pretentious history. She wanted them so see her as Pacifica, a person of her own.  
  
Whilst her parents wouldn’t completely fund such a foolish idea, Pacifica’s credit card had enough money to pay a substantial amount of the investment needed. However, she barely knew the value of a dollar, and was in the dark when it came to the idea of pawing or repurposing anything. Her lifestyle had always allowed for new things to be bought, rather than old ones to be salvaged. Such as when her iPhone’s screen cracked, she had simply bought a new one rather than replace the glass of a soon to be outdated model.  
  
That’s where Mr Jamieson entered the scene. With the help of an accountant and a lawyer she had hired for this specific purpose, she found a promising business partner. He was a repairman from Australia, who had been ‘self-employed’ for many years now. He proved his aptitude for understanding mechanical bits and bolts, as well as an aptitude in salvaging use out of pretty much any knick-knacks, by sending her several videos of his home projects. The simple fact that he had managed to survive 25 years in the desolate wasteland of Australia was proof enough that he was a capable man.  
  
“G’day cobber!” a booming voice said behind her. Pacifica let out a little squeal as she spun on her heel. Behind her was a hunched man wearing clothes covered in mechanical grease. His hair was messy and his shorts and shirt had many holes in them.  
Pacifica quickly composed herself. “How did you get in here… sir?”  
“Back door’s open,” he said, jumping up onto the counter and sitting on it. She noticed that he had a wooden stake where his right leg should be. “So’re you ready ta get this show on the road-a-roo, partner?”  
The realisation hit Pacifica like a poorly made home explosive. “Y-you’re Mr Jamieson?”  
The ratty man let out a shrill laugh, which sounded more like a hackle. “Mista! No one has called me mista in years! Or Jamieson for that matter. Most mates call me Junkrat.” He shot a finger-gun thumbs up to her.  
Oh dear Cipher! Pacifica had to summon all of her strength to maintain her poker-face. “So how long have you been in Gravity Falls?” she asked. “Or America for that matter?”  
“I arrived here yesterday. The answer to both of ya questions, mate.”  
“Yesterday? Aren’t you like, jetlagged?”  
“Nah mate, I got a few hours’ worth of tickin’ in me. After bein’ stuck on a 24 hour flight, sittin’ still is the last thing I can handle right now.”  
  
  
They decided they would open the shop. The people of Gravity Falls were used to the pawn shop being small, quiet and quaint, so they decided not to throw a grand opening. Neither of the business owners were aware of how painfully against their natures it was for both of them to not do things ‘big and loud’.  
  
As the day ticked on, not a single customer entered the store. Pacifica felt her nerves getting on end. She was used to attention. She liked attention. She reconsidered her decision to keep the re-opening quiet. All they had done was put a small sign on the glass saying “Still Open”. Maybe this was why the place had gone bankrupt in the first place, not enough bedazzle.  
Jamieson – Junkrat - fiddled with all the doo-dads in the store. The ones which made little dinging noises and the ones which were silent. Pacifica was fairly certain he broke at least 5 antiques scattered throughout the shelves within the first hour.  
  
She took a deep sigh. Steeling herself, she made herself remember why she had gone to all the trouble to open this store in the first place. The inspiration had actually come from those Pines weirdos. The fact was that even though they were all known as the Pines, one big happy family, the individual members were… well… individuals. Mabel and Dipper were such unique characters that everyone in town knew them all by their first names in a matter of weeks of their arrival. People only knew Pacifica because she had Northwest at the end of her name. And Stan Pines, despite being a bit creepy and a huge scum bag, was in fact Pacifica's key role model. He and his Mystery Shack were such iconic parts of Gravity Falls. They were an integral part of its identity. A part of its history the citizens could be proud of. And what was Pacifica, if not another part of the festering cancer that was the Northwest family?  
The store had been open for four hours, the old cuckoo clock now ticking to two in the afternoon, when the little bell in front of the door chimed. Junkrat and Pacifica perked up, gazing at the customer like a straggler lost in the desert would spy a mirage.  
  
-  
  
Except this cobber was real. He was really real! Junkrat leapt to the front of the store as he peered at the shiny chrome of the omnic. Despite spending so many years of his life fighting and struggling for survival against bloody robot bastards, for once he looked upon a mechanical man with admiration.  
“Peace be upon you,” said the omnic, holding up two fingers like a Japanese school girl. “It is nice to find a store with such ready service.”  
“We’re glad you chose to stop in… sir? Madam?” piped up Pacifica, unsure of a robot’s pronouns. Junkrat felt a pang of jealousy, wishing that it could’ve been he who had said the first words to the customer. He quickly brushed the feelings off, as he came to the conclusion that this magnificent being would have a limitless supply to love to go around.  
“You can call me Zenyatta,” said the omnic as he floated further into the store. “I was hoping to find some transformers for a second generation omnic power cell. It’s for a student of mine. He is built with quite a diverse range of robotics, but I am fairly certain that is what he needs.”  
“If ya brought him in, I could take a peek at him and get you fitted properly,” Junkrat says, trying to act casual and cool. Pacifica silently blesses the Gods and Time Babies watching that Junkrat didn’t ask to look at Zenyatta’s friend’s ‘bits’.  
“Yes, please. Bring more customers. Please,” Pacifica urges.  
“Do you stock a ready supply of robotic parts and omnic power transformers? I know there is a mechanic nearby, but we are a bit short on money for the time being.”  
“Yeah mate, we’ll be able to help ya out no problem!” Junkrat beamed. Despite his disheveled appearance, he was actually very friendly, and Pacifica could feel some of her worries dissipate.  
“Excellent. I shall return in due time. Are you open tomorrow?”  
“Yes!” both owners said in unison.  
“Then I bid you good day,” the robot said, turning to leave.  
  
Junkrat and Pacfica let out a delighted sigh as they both leaned against the counter.  
“Our first customer,” Junkrat said with a daze.  
“Was he technically a customer if he didn’t buy anything?” Pacifica queried, mostly to make conversation rather than jest.  
“Maybe he was a burglar, because I think he stole my heart.”  
“Same.”


	2. I'm gonna keep on mcLovin' you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is kind and pure.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not racist to Americans. I have friend who is American and also a step-mum who is American.

Pacifica thanked her chauffer (a habit she had only recently gotten into) as she left the car which was pulled up in front of PawnHub. It was 9:59 on a Wednesday morning. The spring air was not yet warm, as the sun beaded down more lightly this time of year in Gravity Falls. However it was warm enough that no frost lingered in the glass. Perfect weather.  
Pacifica went around to the back of the shop, needing to use the back door entrance every time she opened the store as this is where the alarm system’s controls were set up. Her heels clicked across the tiled floor of the store, the sounds of ticking clocks accompanying them. She put the key in the front door and flipped the sign on it declaring the store open.  
  
“G’day mate!” Junkrat half greeted half shouted behind her.  
“Augh! When did you get here, Jamieson?”  
“Eh I’ve been here a while. Couldn’t sleep properly. Kept on thinking about that mate, Zenyatta.”  
The two let out a pleasant sigh at the memory of the omnic customer from yesterday, who had seemingly radiated joy. Pacifica brushed the feelings out of her mind, presuming it was simply the rush of her first customer which had overwhelmed her.  
  
“I ain’t a big fan of them robot guys in general,” Junkrat continued, “but I dunno mate, he doesn’t seem that bad.”  
“I get what you’re saying, he was pretty great.”  
“The kinda guy who would give you a fair dinkum, ya know?”  
“Sure,” said Pacifica, her stuck up tone of voice more gentle today.  
  
About 40 minutes passed in which Pacifica kept herself entertained on her iPhone and Junkrat started stock taking, organising various merchandise into some sort of chaotic order which only a mechanic could understand... or a crazy person. They both kept on nervously checking the front door. Finally someone walked through.  
  
Long black hair, plastic-frame glasses on a button nose and silly Mabel-inspired kitten sweater.  
  
“Candy!” Pacifica said. She realised she was beaming from ear to ear at the sight of the other teenager. And why shouldn’t I be? Candy is great!  
“Hello Pacifica,” Candy greeted, her voice dripping with its usual kindness.  
“G’day!” Junkrat said, bounding over to their customer. “How can we help ya t’day, mate?”  
“I just wanted to have a look around,” said Candy, heading over to inspect the shelves of antique books.  
  
Pacifica watched Candy. After the incident of Weirdmageddon, not many citizens of Gravity Falls had been as friendly to the Northwest family as they used to be. People avoided her at school, the daughter of the man who had more than willingly served the evil-over-lord, Bill Cipher. But Candy, and Grenda, had always been polite to her. Candy had talked to her at school, even when Pacifica only responded crudely, shutting down any attempts at friendship being made. She had once viewed Mabel’s friends as freaks. Poor people who were lonely and pathetic. But now Pacifica understood that these were the most real friends anyone could hope for. Candy constantly offered a hand of friendship, despite Pacifica mercilessly biting it again and again.  
  
Under her breath, Pacifica muttered out heart felt words. “I don’t deserve you.”

-

Junkrat was considerably older than both of the girls. Looking at Candy, the feelings he felt were undoubtedly love, but of a pure and real kind. The kind of love where he wished no harm be done to her. He wanted to protect her from all the cruelty of the world. Like a big brother. He wanted to teach her life lessons, like how to ride a bike, how to cook a kangaroo, and how to make a home explosive with basic kitchen ingredients. He wanted to threaten to beat up boys who would lay a finger on her.

“I don’t suppose you have any Pokémon cards?” Candy asked, a few books in her arms.  
“I think I saw some in the knick-knack box,” Junkrat said, hobbling behind the counter to grab the box of miscellaneous items. He wondered how much she knew about Pokémon. Maybe he could teach her some things about the cards. He didn’t know anything about Pokémon cards. Maybe she could teach him a few things about them. As he bent down to pick up the box, he shed a single tear. My little sis, already smart enough to teach things to her big brother.

“Here, let me put those on the counter for you,” Pacifica indicated to the books in Candy’s arms. As Candy handed the books over, their fingers brushed. What perfect, soft fingers she has. Delicate, yet strong enough to carry the weight of all these books. And in turn, symbolic of her mind, strong enough to carry all this knowledge. I wonder what kind of flowers she likes?

Pacifica cleared her mind as the books thudded against the counter.

-

Zenyatta returned later that day with his student. The moment the two walked through the door, Pacifica and Junkrat felt their already perfect day improve tenfold. Zenyatta was just as radiant and beautiful as the first time he had entered. Pacifica could’ve sworn the sun beat down warmer than it was a minute ago. Birds were singing songs of joy outside of the shop window. Junkrat felt explosions in his heart. They were ready to embrace tranquility.  
Zenyatta’s friend was robotoic in appearance, however he did not resemble any omnic either had ever seen before. Despite his unusual appearance he was undoubtedly attractive. His metal and carbon fibre casing formed the shape of a well fit man. The softer parts of his shell resembled muscles, and lights on his shoulders lit up like the warm glow of an electric heater in a blizzard. Atop his helmet were points, rather like cat ears, and both business owners resolved that they would happy allow this half robot half man to sleep at the end of their bed, or in it.  
“Namaste, this is my student, Genji,” Zenyatta’s ochre robotic voice filled the store.  
“Hello Genji,” Pacifica sighed.  
“G-g’ay…” Junkrat chocked out.  
  
-  
  
“Something strange is goin’ on, I swear it,” Junkrat said.  
“You’re in Gravity Falls, the weirdest thing that could happen here would be something not weird happening here,” Pacifica said, recalling ghosts which had once haunted her mansion, and now haunted her memories.  
The pawnshop had been quiet for about an hour after Zenyatta and Genji had left, satisfied with the attentive service they were offered by the mechanic and the business woman. “It’s just… I really ain’t a fan of robots… and for two robot fellas to be so, ya know, agreeable, in a matter of days…” Junkrat’s conflicted mind let his voice settle.  
  
“Well, Genji isn’t technically a robot. Remember what he said, the heart of a man still beats inside me.”  
“Of course I remember what the cobber said. I remember ever word he said. I can’t get his voice outta my mind.”  
  
A silence between them fell, allowing their thoughts to drift as well as linger. Pacifica thought of Candy, how she had never noticed just how beautiful the other girl was in every single way. Her face, her voice, her laugh. She thought of Zenyatta, a robot whom she longed to be friends with, and unashamedly teased the idea of introducing to her parents, even as just a friend. The image of Mr Northwest’s face, stunned to learn that this robot had more fans and more popularity than he did, simply through his general kindness. That even without money, people were naturally drawn to him. And she thought of Genji, whose light jokes and soft laugh made her heart sing.

-

Agreeing to this wild idea of traveling across the entire world’s globe to open a pawn shop was by far the best, split second, crazy idea Junkrat had ever followed through with. Although, he was always one for following through with outlandish badly planned ideas, how else does one acquire a peg leg? But in the past two days he had met some of the most wholesome people he had ever dreamed of meeting. Pacfica was nice enough, but compared to the three customers… nothing compared to them. Not even each other. They were all so amazing and incredible in their own right.

It was early in the morning, about 6 am, when Junkrat woke up. Unbeknownst to Pacifica, Junkrat had in fact never left the store. He had been sleeping there, and intended to do so, for the next few weeks until he found an actual place to live. There was no shower in the pawn shop, but he rarely bathed, so no one would be the wiser.

Junkrat spend the four hours before the store’s opening, entertaining himself. He had a 24 packet of noodles which he primarily fed off. There was an old TV which he had repaired the night before, playing re-runs of Dr Phil. Compared to the wild life in the outback, having some calm and quiet time to himself was like a low budget holiday to Junkrat.

At 9:40 Junkrat re-enabled the store alarm, so that when Pacifica entered ten minutes later through the back to turn it off, she would be none the wiser. Then when she opened the front door, he popped up from behind the counter, as if he had simply arrived a minute or so later than her.

“G’day!” Junkrat said, his voice steaming with its usual energy.  
“I have a feeling that today, will in fact, be a very, very, g’day,” she said, her posh accent butchering the already mangled Australian slang.

-

The bell above the door chimed like the bells to the gates of heaven. In walked the most caricature looking cowboy. His dark eyes and scruffy hair were half hidden under a cowboy hat, and his broad shoulders were covered with a red serape. He was carrying a box full of ornaments and random house hold objects.

“Howdy,” he said in greeting.  
“It’s you!” Pacifica said, bounding over to the man at the door. Junkrat offered to carry the box to the counter. “Mr Jesse McCree.”  
“Who’s this cobber?” Junkrat asked, as he placed the box on the counter.  
“He’s the man I bought this store from. He was so sweet… really quite the gentleman,” Pacifica said, leading the man into the store.  
“I’m glad ya managin’ to keep this place alive,” McCree said, looking around at the rearranged shelves. “Lettin’ it shut down would’a been a mighty shame. Ya see, I aint one for stayin’ in one place for too long. And no one wanted to buy this store, so I thought it was then end of its days. Until this lil’ ray o’ sunshine walked through the door. Swear she’s a godsend!” McCree beamed down at Pacifica, admiration in his eyes. “So now I can go on my way, hittin’ the road tomorrow to journey down yonder, without worryin’ about a damn thing. Anyway I’m gettin’ rid of anythin’ I don’t need. Gotta travel light. Just me, my truck, clothes on my back. No need for, whatever whose-its are in that there box.”  
  
Junkrat sorted through the box, calculating up a purchase price and paying the cowboy his due. In less than an hour, Jesse was tipping his hat goodbye and leaving out of the store he had once been the proud owner of. Junkrat shouted a word of, “See ya mate, was a real, real pleasure doin’ business.” The cowboy gave the man a nervous glance before quickly absconding out of sight.  
  
“Wow, he’s really something isn’t he?” Pacifica said, as she helped sort their new merchandise into their proper places. She dumped several old western movies into a box simply labelled Pawn Stash.  
“See that’s my problem mate… that man really is something…”  
“What’s wrong? You aren’t usually into guys?” Pacifica queried, it had been so long since she had had the chance to engage in proper gossip.  
“Nah I don’t care about any difference between Bruces and Sheilas, it just that, I don’t really like Americans, or robots. Something strange is happening in my noodle, and trust me, my noodle is usually strange. Something really, really strange is going on.”  
“I don’t know Junkrat, maybe it’s just the thrill of being an independent business owner. That was a real customer, whom we offered real service to!”  
The doorbell dinged again and in walked Lazy Susan, a sweet old lady whom Pacifica had held no prior strong emotions towards.

-

“Mabel,” Pacifica’s voice whinged into her phone late that night. “I need you and your weird brother’s help. Something strange is going on in the pawn shop, and if anyone can figure out why I have spent the past three hours day dreaming about baking cookies with Lazy Susan, it’s you Pine freaks.” She paused a moment and pictured Candy. The face of friendship and kindness and beauty. Always encouraging her to become someone better. “Please.”

-

Junkrat was considering how unbelievably emotionally drained he was, recovering from a day of five customers, all of whom were just incredibly beautiful. He was, in a way, exhausted from the whole process of falling in love every time the doorbell dinged. And so many kinds of love. Brotherly love, fatherly love, sonly love, husbandly love. Love which didn’t have names. Love which was entirely incomprehensible. Whichever role fitted perfectly for that person, he longed to take it.  
It was late in the afternoon when two people rushed through the door, a young boy in a baseball cap and red shirt, and a tall skinny woman with cropped messy brown hair and a pilot’s jacket.  
Pacfica and Junkrat, drunk on emotion, simply turned to their new guests and let out a lazy, “I love you,” in awe-filled unison.  
“Mabel was telling the truth-” said Dipper.  
“They were right-” said Lena.  
“Something very weird is definitely going on here,” said Dipper, unsure if his mystery journal would have the answer to this anomaly.  
“Don’t worry luvs, cavalry's here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> going to be another 2 chapters, the final one was a bit large and also i wanted to upload half of it before i finish everything!!!


	3. Imagination is the essence of discovering why strange things are happening when you're goin' round the twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some mystery is solved. \

Messy brown locks, a cockney accent, and legs that go on for days, Lena truly was a marvel. She scratched her head in the fashion of someone comically pondering a puzzle. Lena and the kid, Dipper, had begun an in depth investigation of Pawn Hub.

“It could be a cursed item,” said Dipper, eyeing a particularly enchanted looking ancient vase.  
  
Junkrat clicked his fingers, “Dazza may be on to something,” he prompted, all too eager to support this young man’s dreams of becoming a professional paranormal investigator.  
  
“There’s no such thing as magic, guvnor. It may however, be a very complicated omnic or Vishkar device, emitting neurotoxins into the area,” Lena hypothesised.  
  
“Wise and beautiful,” Pacifica commented. “Truly a Sherlock Holmes of her time.”  
  
“If that were so, then it should be effecting everybody. The customers would be acting goofy too, not just the store keepers,” Dipper combatted.  
  
“Zenyatta loves us back,” Pacifica interjected.  
  
Lena scoffed, “Zenyatta loves every living thing he comes across; and non-living thing for that matter.”  
  
“What about that hoody-doody cowboy?” Junkrat asked, his voice wavering a little. “He loves us.”  
  
“He’s already in a relationship… and he is the one who called Overwatch to investigate this place,” Lena explained. “Said you chaps might be in trouble. That, ‘funky hocus-pocus is goin’ on around these parts’.” Pacifica and Junkrat internally cringed at the British girl’s butchering of McCree’s divine cowboy accent. They both also brushed it off. Lena was a quirky girl and that was one of the many things they loved about her. 

Lena’s phone buzzed. After checking it's message, she addressed her company, “Any-who Winston should be here in a tick, then I’m of to get some bangers and mash for tea!”

Dipper pulled a small handheld device out of his backpack. A little radar dish on top of it span slowly, and he began scanning items around the shop, taking occasional notes. A few minutes later, their constant back and forth hypotheses about what could possibly be going on, were interrupted with Lena’s heavenly voice calling, “Winston!”

A gorilla stood outside of the shop. The doorway was significantly smaller than he was, but the moment he entered the pawn shop, Pacifica and Junkrat discarded their doubts about how such a feat was even physically possible. Of course such an impressive and beautiful gorilla- scientist - could enter the store with such ease and grace as he.

“Is that peanut butter?” he asked, pointing to the pile of Dipper’s bag's contents which had been splayed across the counter. Dipper looked the gorilla in the eye. He considered doing his usual 'uh' of shock, before an entire summers-worth of downright absolute fucking weird bullshit flooded his memory. Nothing threw Dipper Pines anymore.

“Yeah man help yourself.”  
  
“Right chaps, I’m off, catch you later!” Tracer beamed, dashing out the door, and out of my story after being in it for far too long already.  
  
“See you later,” Pacifica cooed after her.

“So what is the nature of the situation?” Winston asked the room as he opened the little snack pack of peanut butter.  
  
“Ain’t nothing the matter mate,” Junkrat said, stepping closer to get a better view of the majestic gorilla. “No worries here, fella.”  
  
“There seems to be a paranormal presence influencing the emotions of Pacifica and… that… guy,” Dipper began, eyeing Junkrat whom to him was a stranger. “I don’t know much about the Australian, but Pacifica is definitely acting kooky.”  
  
“Oh Dipper, you’re so clever,” Pacifica said, running fingers through her hair.  
  
“Mate’s gonna grow up to be a real genius,” said Junkrat, wrapping a protective arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “With the help of his new big brother, Junkrat.”  
  
Dipper took a decent sidestep out of the trash man’s grip. “Errr… thanks... Anyway I have been running some diagnostics on various paranormal energy levels, and it seems as though most of the energy is concentrated on items towards the front of the store.”  
  
“Curious,” said Winston, pushing glasses up his gorilla – scientist - nose. “Have either of you noticed strange things happening in this store?”  
  
“This is Gravity Falls, sir, and you’re a talking gorilla. 'Strange' and 'Gravity Falls' are basically synonymous,” Dipper said.

“Dazza, mate! You can’t just call a man a gorilla,” Junkrat whispered to him. “It’s insensitive stereotyping.” Junkrat thought he was really making a great big brother, teaching young Dip important lessons.

Dipper ignored the comment. 

“Well, we have noticed a few strange things,” Pacifica began. “Some unusual things, like how uncannily beautiful your eyes are,” she said, peering past Winston’s glasses.  
  
Winston maintained his stoic, scientific composure.  
  
“Selfie with your big bro?” Junkrat said, not waiting for a response from Dipper and ducking down to snap a pic with his new adopted sibling. “Ta!”  
  
Dipper and Winston exchanged glances. “It looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

\--

“I have a theory chaps!” Tracer said, in response to the questions as to why she was holding a decently sized pig under her right arm.

“I don’t think Waddles is the cause for whatever’s going on here,” Dipper said.

“Never erase a hypothesis until it is proven wrong,” Winston said, protective of his daughter in a way only a Junkrat could be protective of Dipper or Candy.

“No lads, listen up. I need you all to state how you feel about this pig,” Tracer said. The group of four inside of the shop looked amongst each other, confused and doubting the cockney girl’s sanity. “Trust me chaps. Just give me a sentence or so about this cheeky nando right here.”

Winston shrugged his scientist shoulders. “Sure why not. He looks like he would make a wonderful scientist if only he could talk. Other than that I am fairly indifferent about him. Mostly confused as to where you found a pig, Lena.”

Junkrat spoke next. “Always had a fondness for pigs. Bring back jolly good memories of a mate of mine. Dang now I’m thinkin’ of home and have a hankering for some VegemiteTM.”

“It’s just a dumb pig,” Pacifica scoffed. “I’ve seen him around with Mabel but whatever.”  
  
“It’s Waddles," Dipper said with a placid tone. "I have some good memories with him, but really he was Mabel’s friend. I guess I care about him because Mabel cares about him too.”  
  
“Alrighty chaps. Now let’s see what happens when we do this,” Lena placed the pig on the floor, and living up to his name, he proceeded to waddle into the store.  
  
“Oh my god, come to me you precious baby!” Pacifica called, her voice raising several octaves throughout the sentence.  
  
“You are by far, the second cutest pig I have ever had a gander at,” Junkrat said, bending down to give Waddles a snuggle.  
  
Dipper, Winston and Tracer all noted the sudden adoration in the shop-keepers' tones.  
  
“Let me have a look at something,” Winston said, indicating to Dipper’s device. Dipper handed it over to the scientist. He proceeded to scan the doorway and around the shop’s entrance. After a minute or so, he looked back at the group gathered inside. “At least one mystery has been solved. It isn’t any strange artefacts which are altering the minds of Pacifica and Jamieson, it’s the doorway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the epic finale!!!! for real this time the next chapter will be the END!!!!


	4. Don't get caught with your heart in the letterbox!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion!

“Oi, crikey mate!” Junkrat shouted, leaping across the store and catching an antique lamp in his hands before it shattered against the floor. Waddles refused to apologise, unaware of the destruction he had nearly caused, because he was a pig.

It was nearly midnight, and the group were exhausted from spending all day studying the store. Science-ing was tiring work. At Junkrat’s request, Lena had brought them all ‘Maccas’ for dinner, and consequentially the lack of nutrients was slowly getting to their heads. They had all found a part of the store to lay down in. As they rested, the only sound was Winston’s scientist fingers tapping away at his computer, analysing his calculations from readings he had taken earlier.  
Dipper was nearly asleep, his head resting against his giant journal, when Pacifica’s voice raised a question.

“So how come like, me and Jamieson have been working here for several days, and we’ve been falling for all these customers, but I still think he’s a disgusting weirdo… a great friend and business partner, sure, but a disgusting weirdo nonetheless,” her face was stoic and she snobbishly picked at her perfectly filed nails.

“Yeah the sheila’s right. Every mate who walks through that door instantly becomes more of a beauty than vegemite on toast! Pacfica hasn’t captured my heart quite like Zenyatta, or Genji, or McCree...”

Pacifica carried on, "Or Candy, or Lazy Susan or-"

“Well,” Dipper interrupted, “have you actually seen her walk through the front door, whilst you were standing this side of it?”

“Uh, no I haven’t.”

“I haven’t seen him come in through the front yet either,” Pacifica said.

“So it definitely has something to do with the front door,” Dipper said.

“I just do not understand what type of technology is doing this,” Winston spoke up. “My readings have no correlations. I can’t science out an answer. Maybe I should call more of the team in on this…”

“That’s because it’s not science, its magic,” Pacifica said.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Dipper said, “studying the paranormal is very difficult. We might not find a scientific explanation. For now, we should be focusing on a solution.”

“A scientific solution?” Winston asked.

“Not necessarily,” Dipper said. “Just a permanent one.”

Winston’s scientist shoulders sank sadly.

“So let’s go over what we know about this curse. It is exclusive to the front door of the shop. By taking any other entrance, the curse isn’t inflicted. As me and Winston remained indifferent to Waddles, whereas Pacifica and Junkrat became infatuated-”

“-the beautiful bastard-” Junkrat muttered.

“-it is safe to assume that only the shopkeepers are affected… the shopkeepers… Pacifica! What can you tell me about the previous shop keepers?”

“Well he’s a really handsome cowboy.”

“Tell me about when you first met him.”

“I saw the closing down sign and walked into the store, and there he was. He was the only one working that day.”

“Did you think that he was handsome, at the time?” Lena asked.

“Hmm… not really. I don’t know how I didn’t realise how dreamy he was before though,” Pacifica started to blush. “He’s so fancy, and ‘tootin’. So kind too! Did you know he gave me this store for free? Almost instantly! At first I thought he was just desperate to get the rent obligations off his hands. But when I asked him about it, he insisted it was because he believed in me so strongly and wanted to support my dreams.”

“McCree gave you something for free?” Winston asked, clearly shocked. He scratched his head as he thought, oddly resembling a monkey in the process.

“He must’ve had the same curse inflicted upon him!” Dipper announced. “We should get in contact with him to see if he knows anything we don’t.”

“An excellent idea!” Winston agreed.

\---

“Howdy!”

“This was a terrible idea.” The scientist sighed to the rest of the room, talking away from the phone’s microphone so as to not offend the cowboy. “McCree we need to ask you about the anomaly occurring at Pawn Hub.”

“Oh lordy,” Jesse said, and then murmured more quietly “back into the mix”. Like a parent who could already hear the crayons on the wall, he had been expecting this call and was not surprised by it, just disappointed.

“Do you know anything about the curse?” Dipper asked into the receiver.

“Yeah I had a suspicion that that gabble-dee-whack wasn’t over. Ever since I started workin’ at that store, strange things have been a-brewin’. I barely noticed it at first, but I began infatuatin’ about people from work. My husband, Tad Strange, didn’t mind at first, but it soon got to him. He aint no jealous type, but he was right, I had spent hours of our Sunday night spewin’ poetry about the shining peepers of a cute little Gnome who had-a wandered into the store that week. Ah, Shmebulock…” The cowboy drifted off for a moment. “He’s a goddamn Gnome for heaven’s sake! So I had to move on. Get that darn store outta my life for good. I shoulda warned ya, I really shoulda. But I ain’t a good man…”

“You aren’t a bad man,” Pacifica replied.  
“…but you sure as hell aint ugly,” Junkrat finished.  
“Listen, I’m certain the curse musta broke when I signed over the store. Mainly I’m a bit darn tootin mad I didn’t ask for any cash from the wealthiest girl in town.”  
“So that’s it!” Dipper announced. “Signing over the store must be how the curse is passed on.”  
Pacifica walked behind the counter, pulling out a giant binder of all the legal rights to the store. She searched the folders, unaware of the chewed edges of several pages, courtesy of Junkrat’s night-time boredom. When she found it, she pulled out the signed document declaring Pacifica and Junkrat the legal owner of Pawn Hub.

“Perhaps if we destroy the document, we destroy the curse,” Dipper said.  
“No, don’t destroy it. We should study it, if it turns out to actually be the source of the power disputing this store, the scientific implications would be the discovery of the century,” Winston said, his voice desperate.

“It’s imperative that we free these people of this curse,” Lena said. “Junkrat has hit on me once, which is one time far too many.”  
Winston thought for a moment. “I have an idea. You give me a few hours to study it, and then we will destroy the document.”

“Uh question?” Junkrat said, raising his mechanical arm enthusiastically above his head. “Can I blow it up?”  
“Not in my store,” Pacifica said, hands firmly on her hips.

“If ya don’t let me, I’ll walk right out that door and right back in again!” Junkrat teased.  
“Maybe if it’s a really, really, really, little explosion.”  
Junkrat pumped his first, “Prawns on a barbie, this is a glorious day!”

\--

Dipper was completely unfazed by the sight that greeted him when he opened his eyes. The morning sun warmed his rosy cheeks and his hair was messy from sleeping on a pile of books. Around him was a lanky British girl who was curled up, using her Gorilla/scientist father figure as a pillow. His previous nemesis, Pacifica, had fallen asleep on a pile of second hand pillows. In the corner, Junkrat was still setting up a very complex array of explosions and traps. Outside the door a dwarf with a metal arm knocked on the door.

“Anyone know who that is?” Dipper asked.  
Junkrat looked up. “Oi that bloke’s Torbjorn.”  
Winston stirred awake, his movements waking Lena in turn. The scientist rubbed his eyes and placed his glasses on his nose. “Ah, he’s finally arrived.” Winston told Torbjorn to remain outside until they told him to enter.

After waking Pacifica, the gang gathered around Junkrat’s contraption, before handing him the ownership document. What proceeded to happen was so unbelievable immaculate, I would be unable to accurately describe it in words. I wouldn’t even come close to recreating the scene, which consisted of fireworks, fanfare music, and a roaring yet safely contained fire, so beautiful that even angels like Mercy would cry, with my mere words alone. Finally, after ten minutes of the destruction production, all which remained of the document was fine smouldering ash, which then in turn exploded into even smaller, finer ashy powder.

“Okay team,” Winston said, taking command again. “Outside the door is Torbjorn, the least loveable person Overwatch has access to.”

Winston opened the front door, the little bell chiming along as usual. “The moment of truth is upon us,” Lena said.  
They all watched eagerly as Torbjorn took one short step through the door way. Suddenly all eyes were on Junkrat and Pacifica. Out of seemingly nowhere, Pacifica pulled out a hairbrush. “Please can I brush your immaculate beard?!”  
Torbjorn went pink in the cheeks. “Hurbedey Burgeldy!” he affirmed in Swedish.

Glee filled Pacifica and Junkrat’s faces, as they took the dwarf by a hand each and led him into the shop.

\--

Later on, in a nearby park, the group indulged in some warm midday sun. Winston and Dipper pondered their failure, sprawled out on their backs, surrounded by papers depicting their respective scientific theories. Torbjorn took selfies with the shop keepers, his beard now well-groomed, braided, and full of flowers which had been plucked from a nearby flowerbed. Tracer had fucked off again because I hate her and she’s useless to the story now.

Dipper let out another groan, the only thing he could trust himself to do properly now. Hearing the anguish in his friend’s voice, Waddles gave Dipper a friendly nibble of his hair. Dipper giggled and swatted away the pig, who continued to nibble at his friend undeterred.

“Silly pig, you never quite understood the gravity of the situations I get myself into,” Dipper said. He looked into Waddles’ eyes, as memories of a past summer came flooding back to him. Mabel knitting her and the pig matching sweaters. Mabel scrap booking her adventures. Mabel hunting down cute boys, and tutoring Dipper in turn on how to find love of his own… “Mabel!” Dipper shouted, sitting bolt upright. “If anyone can solve a mystery about love, it’s her!”

“No more mysteries to worry about mate,” said Junkrat dreamily. “Everything makes perfect sense ta me.” He gave Torbjorn a quick peck on the cheek.  
“Gersh Gurndey, bork bork bork!”

\--

“Okay guys, if Mabel’s theory doesn’t work, then I really have no idea how we’re going to solve this one,” Dipper said, a pen and paper held in his hands. “Pacifica, Junkrat, I need you to sign this.” He put the paper down on a park bench, and pointed to two underlines near the bottom.

Pacifica read over the paper, despite loving and trusting Dipper immeasurably, she was also a clever businesswoman who never signed a contract without reading it first. “I declare that ownership of Pawn Hub’s front door and subsequent curse, belongs to the following…” A blank spot was left where a name of a new owner could be filled. At the top were spots for the two shop owners to sign.

Junkrat signed without hesitation, before Pacifica could stop him. When he finished dotting the ‘i’ in Jamieson with a heart, he sat back and watched her, anticipating her to follow suit. She sighed and gave in.

Next, Dipper pulled out a tiny inkwell, and bending down, rubbed Waddles’ hoof with black ink. He then placed the paper on the ground, allowing the pig to sign the paper and become the legal owner of the pawn shop’s curse.

There was silence amongst the crowd for a moment and they all looked amongst themselves, before they rushed back to the store. Pacifica, Junkrat and Waddles all stood inside whilst Dipper and Winston found a test subject. A few minutes later a very confused Soos was ushered into view.

“Heya dudes, what’s going on?” he said, his voice full of its usual delightful joy.  
“G’day cobber, you mind taking a walk into the store for a moment?”  
“Sure thing dudes,” he said. They held their breath as the man stepped inside.

For the first time in week, Pacifica and Junkrat felt calm. Whilst they held generally positive feelings towards the man, they did not become instantly infatuated. Waddles on the other hand immediately bounded over to Soos, desperate to cover him in snuggles and snorts.

“We’re free!” Pacifica exclaimed.  
“Come to think of it, I can already feel the curse wearing off,” Junkrat said. “I managed to stop thinking about Genji’s flawless legs, for more than a minute.”  
“Oh my god me too!” Pacifica squealed. The two hugged briefly before regaining their composure. “Thank you so much Dipper. And Winston, for helping out but ultimately being useless.”  
“Yeah and give Mabel our cheers will ya?” Junkrat said.

Pacifica and Junkrat took a few minutes to comprehend their newly found freedom, and watched Soos leave the store to buy ice-cream for him and his new pig friend.

“I can’t believe I fell in love with Tracer,” Junkrat spat.  
“Eugh I know,” Pacifica said.  
From behind them, a soft voice spoke up, “Hoogle-dee bork nark nark?”  
Junkrat’s eyes instantly went soft. “Oh no Torby, of course we still love you.” He placed a mechanical arm around the dwarf’s shoulders.  
“Yeah are you kidding me, you’re the most useful member of any defence team,” Pacifica said, wrapping an arm of her own around the Swede.  
The three of them left the store, arm in arm, out the front door.

 

Winston turned to Dipper, the only two people remaining in Pawn Hub.  
“You know, none of my calculations detected any sort of anomaly,” Winston said, packing up his equipment.

“Well, Waddles seemed to be pretty affectionate towards Soos. Then again, it’s impossible not to love him, and Waddles is a very friendly pig…” Dipper said, locating books and papers of his own. “You don’t suppose there wasn’t any curse after all do you?”

Winston pondered the implications for a moment. “You think that it was simply the monotony of owning such a rarely appreciated store that led McCree, and in turn the new owners, to feel extreme emotion when any prospective customer walked in?”

“Well, as a great scientist once told me, never erase a hypothesis until it is proven wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to impress a girl.

**Author's Note:**

> The plot is yet to thicken....  
> The hyphen paragraph split is meant to be a switch in perspective but its third person anyway so whatever...  
> Thanks to Jessie for her gorgeous fan art : http://apocahipster.tumblr.com/post/148193264379/i-heart-jamies-blog-fan-art-of-jamies-new  
> My art: http://apocahipster.tumblr.com/post/148636841064/the-final-chapter-is-up-hope-you-enjoyed-reading  
> http://apocahipster.tumblr.com/post/148445047624/chapter-3-is-up-for-all-2-of-u-who-read-it


End file.
